


Let Me Have My Fill of the Sweetness That Spills From Your Lips

by extremelyperturbed



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, non-encephalitis AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-27
Updated: 2013-07-27
Packaged: 2017-12-21 12:51:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/900534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/extremelyperturbed/pseuds/extremelyperturbed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My fill of a kinkmeme request where Will Graham secretly sings opera and Hannibal finds out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Me Have My Fill of the Sweetness That Spills From Your Lips

Despite Jack's not-so-subtle pushing to keep grinding away, Will had scheduled two weeks off later in the year to prepare for a concert he had for a small, select and private audience. It was not often that he had anybody other than his dogs hear him sing but having so many pets wasn't cheap and fully immersing himself in the music was one of the few guaranteed ways that he could let go of everything that bothered him. For a short time, the music and the song coursed through him and swept away the worries, the fear, the uncertainty.

His singing was a secret that not even Alana knew about. His voice had been discovered when he sang in church and as part of choir practice for elementary school. When a teacher had called his father to tell him that he was talented and that he should have lessons, his father had laughed then scowled that the only work that really counted came from one's hands. This was part of the reason why Will rarely talked to the old man. It was only when he became a cop in New Orleans that he could afford singing lessons.

His teacher once told him that he could easily become a professional singer with the quality of his voice. However, he didn't want all the drawbacks of such a career like the pressing of the flesh, the huge crowds, the insistence on social niceties and the politics of making sure one got the 'right' part. Doing the occasional private concert for a crowd used to indulging eccentric artists suited him best.

***

Hannibal was enjoying himself at a party thrown by the mayor when he heard a familiar voice calls his name. "Hannibal? Will you be busy two weeks from now?" said a woman with silver hair and a face that had aged gracefully, untouched by a plastic surgeon's knife. 

"I believe I'm free, Mrs. Silver," said Hannibal. Part of his social circle, she was a widow who had the time and the money to uncover new and interesting entertainments. Luckily, their tastes were congruent so he took her recommendations with a gravity he rarely gave others.

"That is good because I managed to get invited to a small private performance by a singer that sings only three times a year if that. He's going to be singing in a small theater near Chicago."

"You sound very enthused."

"This is Will Graham, we're talking about."

"Will Graham?"

"Yes. I thought that you must have heard of him."

"The name is familiar," said Hannibal evasively. "But I don't believe I have ever attended any of his concerts."

"I have my friend's phone number if you want to attend."

"I am most grateful," said Hannibal. He made a note to himself that if anybody was especially rude to her, he would be sure to arrange an accident on her behalf. But of course, he thought, he would never tell her because she was the type who would feel needless guilt.

***  
The host of the performance had rented a small theater that made up for its size with peerless acoustics.

Mrs. Silver showed him to his seat. "I hope that you enjoy yourself."

"Believe me, I am sure to enjoy myself." If Will sang well, he would enjoy the performance. If he did not, he would be merciless in his critique of his technique.

He was pleasantly surprised when he saw Will walk on stage. He had put some effort into styling his hair, shaving his face and dressing in a tuxedo that fit him though not of the highest quality. Hannibal felt strangely affected by the sight. Occasionally, I forget just how handsome he can be, he thought.

"My first song will be La Fleur Que Tu M’Avais Jetee," said Will. "It's from Carmen." Will proceeded to sing the song. 

Hannibal felt himself stirred by the intense emotion projected with such surprising skill by the tenor. Ah, Will, he thought, how you continue to surprise me with your hidden talents. Hannibal felt terribly glad that he had brought a bouquet with him to present after the performance.

The second song was "Di Quella Pira from Il Travatore" where Will had to hold a high 'C' perfectly and with little visible effort.

After the clapping had subsided, Will said, "Credeasi Misera from Bellini's I Puritani will be my next song."

"That's quite ambitious," said Mrs. Silver to Hannibal.

"Yes," said Hannibal. The song contained the F note that was higher than a high 'C,' something even top-level singers had problems tackling.

When Will nailed that note, Hannibal found himself breathless.

After a few other equally ambitious songs, Will ended with the crowd pleaser of "Nessu dorma" from Turandot.

After the concert, Hannibal strode up to Will, who looked surprised to see him there. "Hannibal?"

"That was a lovely performance. These are for you."

"Um, thanks," said Will as he took the token of Hannibal's appreciation.

"I'd like to know how . . ."

"You know him?" said Mrs. Silver.

"I . . ."

"We're . . . friends," said Will.

"Yes, friends," said Hannibal. "Though he has the most wickedly bad habit of holding out on me when it comes to displays of his talent."

"It was an amazing show, my dear."

"Thank you," said Will.

The silver-haired lady sighed, "I must retire. I will leave you two young men to enjoy the rest of the night."

"Thank you," said Hannibal. He turned back to Will. "My car's outside unless you don't want to . . ."

"What do you have in mind?"

"There's a restaurant near the hotel I'm staying that's open until very late. It also happens to be surprisingly good . . ."

***

They went to the French bistro near Hannibal's hotel. Hannibal ordered a glass of red wine and braised beef cheeks with red beet puree while Will ordered bouillabaisse, a seafood soup flavored with saffron. "Does Jack know about this?" said Hannibal.

Will shook his head. "Nobody knows. Not even Alana."

"Why is that? Why make it such a secret? If I had a talent like yours that everybody would clamor to see, I would reveal it to everybody."

Will rolled his eyes. "You are a very talented man. I believe you are fishing for compliments."

Hannibal simply smiled at that. "I still want to know."

"While I was growing up, none of my friends liked opera. So, I got into the habit of not talking about it with anybody I knew. Besides, I wanted to enjoy it on my own terms. As long as the audience is made of people paying for a performance but people I don't interact with otherwise then I can take or leave them. But if the others knew, at best, they'd think it was interesting but not to their taste. At worst, I'd be constantly expected to perform on command but have all my efforts taken for granted. I don't want to take something I truly love turned into a joyless chore."

"I see. Those are legitimate concerns." Hannibal understood that Will didn't want his singing to become something he dreaded on par with the use of his empathy at crime scenes. He could easily imagine Jack wheedling Will into performing to impress his superiors. 

"So, I'd really rather that you not tell anybody else about this."

"I won't tell a soul. But on two conditions."

"What?"

"You tell me the next time you're performing."

"Done."

"Also . . . how long are you staying in Chicago?"

"Four days then I take an afternoon flight home."

"If you have a passing interest in having some company during your vacation, I . . ."

"If you're asking if you can hang out with me, the answer is yes."

The waitress came back with their dishes. 

***  
As they were just about to enter the Shedd Aquarium, Will's phone rang. "I'm sorry, I have to take this. I did tell Jack to call if another Ripper murder happened. Hello," said Will. Hannibal watched as his expression brightened. "Oh, hello, Mrs. Silver. You want to hire me to perform at your birthday party? I hope she told you about my policy of no pictures or recordings allowed. Only a hundred of your closest friends at your estate? Yes, I do take requests. Canto Della Terra, yes, I know the song. You want to know if I'll do a duet. I'd have to meet the person I'm singing with and see if we can work well together. Three months from now? Send me the rest of the details, my host has my e-mail. Oh, just one more thing. Is Hannibal invited?"

Hannibal blinked in surprise and felt a rush of warmth in his heart. 

"He is. Thank you very much Mrs. Silver. Goodbye." Will sighed in relief as the call ended. "Looks like I have another gig and this time you won't have to fly out to see me sing. I just hope . . . ."

"Hope?"

"That I won't have to bow out due to an investigation."

"That would be a tragedy," said Hannibal. I suppose I will have to be more discreet for a while. I do owe Mrs. Silver a favor after all and Will Graham singing a duet . . . 

"Dr. Lecter . . . After the aquarium, how about we go have some pizza?"

"Yes."

***  
Jack wondered why the Ripper hadn't done any killings for the past three months. What are you up to? Jack thought. What's going on?

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: I believe many Hannigram fans will find some amusement in the translation of the song from Carmen. http://www.ce.berkeley.edu/~coby/songtr/carmen/flowersong.htm
> 
> I cast Will as a tenor. A few of the arias I chose come from http://listverse.com/2011/05/16/top-10-horrifyingly-difficult-opera-arias/ 
> 
> Canto Della Terra is not an aria but a song sung by Andrea Bocelli.


End file.
